


Raw

by Python07



Series: A Fixed Point [15]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, character death offscreen, spoilers for ep 10.11: World Enough and Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 09:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: Alistair didn't know what to make of the small, round man at the guard shack.





	Raw

“Sir.” Alison poked her head into Alistair’s office.

Alistair looked up from his cursed paperwork. “Yes, Alison, what is it?”

“The guard at the front gate called. He’s got a stranger demanding to see you,” Alison reported.

Alistair frowned. “Tell Corporal Winston to tell the chap to go through proper channels.”

Alison bit her bottom lip. “He tried, Sir,” she said anxiously, “the man is refusing to leave. Winston says there’s something about him. He seems desperate, but not violent. He thinks you should come see for yourself.”

Alistair grunted and stood. “Oh, very well.”

Alison smiled in relief. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll let him know you’re coming.”

Alistair walked briskly out of the headquarters building and down the drive to the guard shack. He slowed down just enough to look the visitor up and down before he approached. 

The visitor was a round little man with a bald head and spectacles. He wore a fuzzy white jacket and white, pink, and black plaid pajama pants. There were bunny slippers on his feet. He was rambling on to Winston about farming techniques in Iron Age Scotland. Even though the topic was bland, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and wrung his hands together nervously.

Winston spotted Alistair and came to attention. “Sir.”

The visitor abruptly stopped talking. He looked at Alistair, open mouthed. “You’re the Brigadier?” he squeaked.

Alistair arched an eyebrow in dry amusement. “Yes. How can I help you, Mr…”

The visitor just shook his head and looked pointedly at Winston.

Alistair nodded. “Give us a bit of privacy, Winston, but stay within sight.”

“Sir,” Winston acknowledged and walked to just out of earshot.

Alistair never took his focus off the visitor. “Now, may I have your name?”

The visitor stood up straighter. “Just Nardole.”

Alistair inclined his head. “Very well, Nardole,” he said, firm but polite. “How can I help you?”

Nardole looked around before leaning in close to Alistair. He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I need you to come with me, Sir.”

Alistair barely touched Nardole’s elbow. “Why don’t we discuss this in my office?”

“No,” Nardole hissed. He looked around again and bit his bottom lip. “Please, you have to come with me.”

Alistair looked around too but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. His grip tightened on Nardole’s elbow as the man looked ready to bolt. “Where?”

Nardole wrung his hands some more. He tilted his head to the side. “Not far. It’s just in the woods.”

Alistair tried to remain patient but only partially succeeded. “What is? I don’t have time for games.”

Nardole suddenly grabbed Alistair’s sleeve. He looked solemn and scared and his bottom lip quivered. “We have a mutual friend who needs you. Wild gray curls and eyes like a raging sea.”

Alistair’s stomach clenched in response. He closed his eyes for a long moment and opened them again to see Nardole’s wide, begging eyes. “Very well,” he breathed out. He turned his attention back to Winston. “I will accompany this man.”

“Sir,” Winston automatically protested.

“Corporal,” Alistair went on, steady, calm and smooth. “If anyone asks, I was called away and you don’t know when I shall return.”

“But--”

“That’s an order, Winston,” Alistair barked.

Winston jumped to attention. “Yes, Sir!”

Alistair nodded to Nardole. “Lead the way.” 

Once they were out of sight, Nardole broke into a brisk waddle and then into a wheezing jog. Alistair easily kept up with him. He didn’t dare to ask any questions because Nardole didn’t seem able to answer.

The TARDIS was hidden in the deep woods around UNIT HQ. Nardole was still huffing and puffing and red in the face. He went to open the doors. He hands shook as he put the key in the lock. “I’m sorry to just pop in like this, but the TARDIS insisted. She’s planted us here and refuses to move.”

Alistair hesitated for only a split second. //I told myself I would never set foot again in this contraption.// “The TARDIS told you to fetch me?”

Nardole rested with his hands on his knees, still trying to catch his breath. “Yes. She was really pushy about it too.”

Alistair frowned at the unfamiliar console room. He didn’t have time to be impressed. “Where is the Doctor?”

“He’s locked himself in his room,” Nardole wheezed. “He hasn’t been out of there in days. I don’t think he’s slept or eaten.”

Alistair helped Nardole to one of the chairs around the main console. He kept a hand on Nardole’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Nardole rubbed his sweaty hands together. His voice broke. “He wanted to trust Missy and he couldn’t save Bill.”

Alistair stomped on the surge of anger at the mention of Missy. He’d be sure to yell at the Doctor about the stupidity of trusting Missy later. Still, his tone was clipped. “Bill was his companion?”

“Yes.” Nardole sniffed. “Sweet girl, a breath of fresh air.” He shuddered in dread. “He couldn’t save her from the Cybermen.”

Alistair sighed heavily and pushed his anger away. Later. It would come later, after he assessed the damage. He squeezed Nardole’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Nardole took a handkerchief out of his pocket, slipped his glasses off, and wiped his eyes. “She loved it.” He waved an arm to encompass the TARDIS. “All of it. She loved him and didn’t mind showing it. She made things bearable for him.” He managed a broken chuckle. “I can’t say I approved at first, but she helped him when I couldn’t.”

“Are you going to be all right?”

Nardole offered a watery smile. “Don’t worry about me, Sir. I’m always all right. The Doctor’s the one who needs you.”

“You can call me Brig. Everyone does.”

Nardole stuffed the handkerchief away and grabbed Alistair’s free hand. His expression was heartbreaking in its sweetness and vulnerability. “Thank you, Brig. Now, please, help him.”

Alistair gave a small reassuring smile and squeezed Nardole’s shoulder one last time. He straightened up. “Where’s the Doctor’s room?”

“It’s keeps moving about.” Nardole answered vaguely. “But the TARDIS will show you.”

Alistair looked around and tried speaking to the TARDIS. “All right, old girl, where is he?”

Alistair jumped when the first panel beneath his feet lit up. He followed the lights down twisting corridors. He came to a familiar looking wooden door. He tried the handle with baited breath.

The door swung open easily. Inside he found a replica of the bedroom at his cottage. He cautiously stepped inside and the door quietly closed behind him. “Doctor,” he called.

There was no answer. He stepped around the bed to find the Doctor huddled on the floor, back to the side of the bed and facing the wall. He knelt down in front of him. “Doctor,” he tried again gently.

The Doctor’s eyes were red and glassy. His curls were in wild disarray and his chin was covered in stubble. He hugged his knees to his chest. His hands were clenched into white knuckle fists. His lips moved but no words came out.

Alistair leaned forward and touched his forehead to the Doctor’s. He cupped the sides of the Doctor’s face. “Doctor, I’m here. You’re not alone.”

The Doctor’s skin was hotter to the touch than normal and he was trembling. He didn’t react to Alistair’s presence.

“I have you.”

The Doctor let out a broken sound. He suddenly grabbed Alistair’s wrists, hard. “Alistair,” he whispered hoarsely. “Is it really you?”

“It’s me,” Alistair answered soothingly.

“How can you be here?”

Alistair kissed the Doctor’s forehead and pulled back just enough to see his face. “The TARDIS sent Nardole to fetch me.”

“The TARDIS,” the Doctor echoed, almost in a daze.

“Yes. Apparently, she’s decided that you need me.” Alistair gave a small smile. “I’ll still not be calling her sexy,” he added lightly.

The Doctor surged forward and tackled Alistair to the floor. He wrapped his arms and legs around him. He buried his face in Alistair’s neck.

Alistair rubbed the Doctor’s back with one hand. The other ran through the Doctor’s hair. He kissed the Doctor’s temple. “Just breathe, Doctor. That’s all you have to do.”

“Alistair,” the Doctor whimpered.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

The Doctor’s voice was muffled but his anguish was clear. “It’s my fault. Bill’s gone and it’s my fault.”

“I doubt that,” Alistair replied with quiet certainty. “And I’m sure you almost killed yourself trying to save her.”

“I wanted to trust Missy. I wanted to give her a chance. I wanted to believe that she could change.” The Doctor’s trembling increased. He hugged Alistair even tighter. “I wanted my friend back, but my friend hasn’t existed in a long time.”

“Doctor,” Alistair began.

The Doctor shook his head but didn’t pull away from the safe haven in the crook of Alistair’s neck. “No. Bill and Nardole both told me it was a bad idea, that I couldn’t trust her. They were right. I let myself be blinded by sentiment. Stupid, stupid Doctor. You never learn.”

“Shhh,” Alistair tried to soothe him. “Enough of that.”

The Doctor let out a shuddering breath. He tried to curl into Alistair even more as if trying to get under Alistair’s skin. “But I…”

Alistair lightly tugged on the Doctor’s hair. “No,” he said with quiet, iron conviction. “You’re not the villain. You’re not the monster here. That’s the Master. That’s the Cybermen.”

“She was joy. Why couldn’t I save her?” the Doctor whispered brokenly.

“I’m sorry.”

With that, the Doctor broke down and Alistair simply held on while he cried. Alistair stroked his hair and murmured nonsense into his ear. Alistair held on while the Doctor exhausted himself and then went limp in his arms.

Alistair kissed the Doctor’s head. “Can we move to the bed before you fall asleep?”

“I don’t want to sleep,” the Doctor mumbled petulantly but with a dose of real fear. “I don’t want to re-live what happened to her.”

Alistair slowly disentangled himself from the Doctor and stood. He offered the Doctor a hand. He smiled softly. “I promise not to leave you.”

The Doctor looked at the hand. His eyes were red rimmed and exhausted. He finally took Alistair’s hand and let Alistair help him to his feet. He immediately shed his coat and boots and crawled onto the bed.

Alistair got rid of his hat, uniform jacket, and shoes. Then he spooned behind the Doctor. He wrapped an arm around the Doctor’s waist and pulled him back to rest firmly against his chest. He rested his hand over the Doctor’s hearts. He nuzzled the back of the Doctor’s neck. “I’m here and you’re safe. I’ll wake you if you have nightmares.”

The Doctor relaxed back into Alistair’s body. He sounded half asleep already. “I should stop bringing my problems to your doorstep.”

Alistair didn’t stop nuzzling the Doctor’s neck. “Stop talking nonsense and go to sleep.”

For once, the Doctor followed orders.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know I haven't saved the Brig from the events of A Thing Happened Yet. I will, but this one demanded to be written.


End file.
